THREE TERRIBLE STORIES.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVII, Issue 145, 14 November 1914, Page 6

THREE TERRIBLE STORIES.

GLIMPSES OF THE BATTLEFIELDS.

The French Red Cross had found tho fcody of a dead German soldier, says a Mail special correspondent. "The victim's tunic was already open, tas is the habit with our own brave' 'Tommies.' I unfastened some more fattens, Must I, spoil this story? Let me out with it all in truth—a huge rasher of bacon fell from his breast, and as we raised his shoulders there fluttered out a letter—greasy with bacon, and rapidly taking on another colour from his welling wound. 'May we look at the letter?' The doctor gives consent. Just an ordinary letter. It ran thus:—

" 'My Dearest Heart,—(When the little ones have said their prayers and prayed for their dear father and "nave gone to bed I ait and think of thee, my fova. I Uiink of all the old days when we were betrothed, and i think of all our happy married life. Oh! Ludwig, uelovcd of my soul, why sbould people fight each other? I cannot think that God would wish it . . .'

"'I do not think you need read any more,' said the doctor.

" 'Nor do V was my reply. You will ■ot believe it, but, hardened to war from my youth, I could only toy with Jny rough meal at night, and in my slumbers I kept hearing the simple words, 'My Dearest (Heart,—When the little ones have said their prayers and prayed for their dear father and have gone to bed, I sit and think of thee, my love.' I wonder whether the great War Jjord has been troubled in this way recently?"

I THINGS THiT DE- ;' SCRIPTIC'X.

i' A membor of the Ambulance Corps I serving with the French .Army near Verdun writes:—

"I have gone through five terrible days, and I do not know how it is that '£ am still alive. There are things in 'cur corps that baffle description. I "Waiting all day long in more or less positions is already sad 'enough; with the noise of r:flc (ire and the roaring of th» guns we cannot but 'constantly think of the poor fellow* who arc being hit. "The din of the battle grows less the night draws on, the mompnt has now come for us to do o'.u* taik. With acetylene lamps to light us, we crow the battlefield in all directions, and pick up the wounded. As to Ilia dead, alas! r now numerous the/ are! .We find them petrified in their last attitude in their last clan. And the crying and moaning of the wounded scittered in tlio cornfields, and among the damp meadows! I know of nothing more poignant than that. The bullets nearly always go right through; wounds in the chest or in the abdomen are almost certainly mortal. Fortunatelyi, such wounds arc comparatively few in number."

J IT IS HEARTBREAKING. I A doctor in practice in London and' now serving with the R.A.M.C., the Exifeditionary Force, writes to his parents i at Carnarvon, dated September 14% — I "To-day I 'have amputated tho arm of a German officer who, in civil life, j is the first Judge in Berlin. Yesterday 'and to-day wo have buried over SO I Germans and English. They lie side by side in the same grave in an orchard. i The German prisoners and our boys I I stood round as tile major read the Lurial service..

"Can you imagine the scene of yesterday? In one spot 00 German gunners "lay dead around their shattered battery. The Germans are now in full flight before the Englisli, and we arc going over the ground they 'have covered. It is heartbreaking to see the wreckage left. "We arc twelve miles from the front, and thank God for it, as the strain, aa far as the firing line is concerned ,is almost too much for the nerves' after my terrible experience of the 9th. When you, get this letter fall en your knees and thank God that our homes are safe in our island, guarded as they are by a powerful nary."